


My childhood spat out the monster that you see

by languageismymistress



Category: Captain America, The Avengers
Genre: Bucky doesnt like horror, By himself, M/M, Steve was just doing his job, and gets hit then hit on, its their fault really, thanks to Natalia and Clint, which is why he is in a haunted house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2600393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageismymistress/pseuds/languageismymistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was scared of everything and anything horror or scare, so why he was in line for this haunted house was beyond him, all he knew was that there were two idiots in a tree spying on him and screams from inside that were telling him to run</p><p>Bucky v The Haunted House, this can only end in tears</p>
            </blockquote>





	My childhood spat out the monster that you see

He wasn’t scared, Natalia had just talked up Haunted House to the point that he wasn’t sure if he was properly frightened or just scared by the voices and hand gestures that she made that turned Clints face white. Knowing that his two best friends were most likely just trying to terrify him to the point that he wouldn’t even go into the stupid house, Bucky looked around at the amount of young children in the line, he figured that he was the oldest there without parents accompanying him, great. The screams and shrieks that were coming out of the house weren’t really helping his nerves, he really did love Halloween, he just hated horror and anything scary. This was why the dare to go into the haunted house, on his own, cause no Barton, he didn’t need someone to hold his hand, was a very, very, bad idea. He had thought about just buying the ticket as proof that he went in but not bothering with the going in part but he was certain that he had already spotted Natalia and Clint hiding in the trees. So here he was, a somewhat adult going into his own personal hell just to prove something to his idiotic best friends, he was screwed.

 

Nodding over to the bored attendee who looked like she should be at home on the school night, he grimaced at the line getting shorter and shorter, meaning that his turn to enter was coming up. Noticing little drops of red falling from the roof above his head, he knew that he was in for an awful night, shaking his head at the stare from girl at the front door, her lips painted the colour of the drips. His hand was shaking as he turned the door knob, a small little shock made his hand flinch, this place was already shocking the hell out of him, to the point that his jokes are becoming as bad as Clints. Bracing for something to jump in his face immediately, the feeling of dread took over his body, an eerie silent fell onto the room, he could hear his heart beating in his chest, the sound of the screams coming from the other rooms, he was already regretting this. The only thing he could see was himself reflected off almost very surface, making the room look like it could drag on forever. The corners of the mirrors danced with a figure he thought, it disappearing before he could get a good enough glance. The floor beneath from moved forward as he reached the next room, his feet staying still as he let the floor take him through to where he was meant to be, the mirrors turning into bodies of horror and decay, that little dancing figure appearing in and out, dancing and moving in tangent with both him but almost the swinging bodies on the wall. He really wasn’t liking this. 

 

They could have just made the haunted house a night of terror and delight, but no, they had to go with that one thing that kept people awake at night. What’s that in the mirror or the corner of your eye? This was not want he was expecting and more importantly, really not what he was wanting. The feeling of a breeze or a breath flowing across his neck, the movement or shuffle as he stepped off the moving floor, slipping into the next room, yet no one in sight. Feeling something near him, he tried to focus on the room he was in, the lack of light par from the red glow over faces and paintings was the only source of seeing he had, which he really could do without. Listening to the sound of screams again, he remembered what Natalia had told him, the louder they get, the closer you are. He was only three rooms in and ready to escape, he didn’t want to die in here because of some stupid bet, he could and would beat this. Feeling that breeze shiver up his spine, he shook his head, ignoring the painting and disfigured beings in them, searching around for the next room, hoping that this really was it. The door that was near his escape was jarred, more on purpose than accident, but still enough to make him dread what was behind it. Pushing himself against it, he stumbled into the room, the mirrors were back with a figure dancing amongst them, the only noise coming from the chant of the figure.

 

“Whats that in the mirror? In the corner of your eye? Whats that footstep following? But never passing by? Perhaps the lot is waiting, Perhaps when we're all dead. Out they'll come a slithering, From underneath your bed.”

 

His swears on his life that he didn’t shriek as the figure appeared in front of him, his body acting on the fight or flight mode that all humans have in their system. His fist reached must quicker than his mind could, punching the figure, guy he thinks, before legging it over to the exit sign. He ignored the people chattering around him, or the footsteps that were definitely following him, aiming to just get out and away of the house as fast as his body could take him. Rushing past what definitely was a laughing redhead and birdbrain, he stopped over near the large oak tree that was out of the way of the moving and running patrons. Resting his head against the tree, he jumped as someone tapped him on the shoulder, turning to stare down an incredibly attractive ghost. His makeup extenuated the blue colour that were encapsulating. A small little tattoo was peeping from underneath the collar of his shirt, his gaze was heated and really not happy, his hand was covering a part of his face.

 

“Can I help you?” He put as much charm as his could manage into his smile.

 

“Why the fuck did you just punch me? You jerk,” The attractive ghost glared up at him, he was wishing that he could fall into a hole right now.

 

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that, not really sure what happened” He scratched the back of his head.

 

“You don’t know why you punched me than ran?” The ghost titled his head.

 

“No, I do, I just, I hate horror and scary and my friend bet me to do this and you were dancing and scary and I reacted and punched and ran and now I want to crawl into a hole,” He mumbled out.

 

“You went into a haunted house to prove your friends wrong?” The ghost started laughing at him.

 

“Yeah,” He bit down on his bottom lip. 

 

“Smart,” He was starting to like this ghost.

 

“Regular thinker, right here,” He leant against the tree, fumbling slightly as the bark scraped against his hand, falling from the tree. 

 

“Right…” The ghost was staring at him like he was one of the attractions at the festival.

 

“Look, let me buy you a drink, as an ‘I’m sorry for punching you in the face,’” He smiled as the ghost blushed.

 

“Sure, I’m finished now anyway, you were my last scare, luckily,” The ghost smirked up at him. 

 

“Right, makes for a good story,” He pushed himself off of the tree, following the ghost along the leaf litter path.

 

“Yeah, Pegs and Sam will piss themselves with this one, or hunt you down, depends on how good this drink is,” The ghost winked at him, holding open the door to the food hall.

 

“Best behaviour than,” He gave the ghost a salute.

 

“Hopefully not for the whole night,” The ghost brushed past him, heading over to the bar, waving at the vampire behind it.

 

“Steve, how is scaring people?” A blond grinned over at him, watching Bucky move over next to him.

 

“The same, scare people here, get punched there,” The ghost, Steve laughed, throwing his head back, his throat pale against the little amount of sun that was flittering into the room. 

 

“Getting punched?” The blond stared at him bewildered.

 

“Hence the reason my friend here is buying me a drink,” Steve tilted his head over to him.

 

“You punched Steve?” He noted the tone in her voice.

 

“Sharon, it was an accident,” Steve warned her.

 

“How?” She stared at the two of them.

 

“I was scared,” He mumbled out.

 

“You were and you, never mind, what will it be?” She smiled bright at them, a small pair of fangs showing.

 

“Just two beers for myself and…” Steve trailed off staring at him.

 

“Bucky,” He shook his head, laughing.

 

“You didn’t even know his name?” Sharon cocked her hip to the side, resting her hand on it.

 

“To be fair, I didn’t know his name until you called him Steve,” He watched a small shiver run up Steves spine, his mind wondering about what else he could make Steve’s body do.

 

“Of course not, here, they are on the house,” She shook her head, shuffling over to serve the patrons next to them. 

 

Following Steve to a small table and chairs in the corner of the food hall, he took the seat across from Steve. One thing he wasn’t planning on tonight was having to watch a guy drink a long neck with his fingers playing around the neck of the bottle. These were things that should never be done in public, ever. Wanting to hit his head on the table, he smiled at the look at Steve was giving him, one that made him believe that the punk could read minds.

 

“You good,” He jumped at a foot running up his leg.

 

“Will be when we, I, get out of here,” He winced at his stumble of words.

 

“We could be a thing,” Steve winked at him.

 

Yup, that’s it, the haunted house had killed him. Natalia had finally won, he went on the bet and died because there is no way that this was happening. This ghost was going to be the death of him and he was so fine with that he might even send Natalia and Clint a thank you card.

**Author's Note:**

> Meghan and i are here to fuck shit up


End file.
